None of that has happened.
"Karter asked Mason how you were." Natalie shrugs as though that small statement might make a difference. I guess it's better than nothing, but not much.
"And what did Mason say?"
"He told them what he knows, which isn't much."
"And what does Mason know?"
"That you hate your job."
"I think that fact is going to be engraved on my headstone. Here lies Connie Franks. She hated her job."
Natalie joke-punches me on the shoulder. "Less death talk, please. This is a party. In fact, we need to get you some alcohol. I don't think I've ever seen you this tense."
Alcohol sounds amazing. I exhale a long breath I didn't realize I'd been holding in and glance around. The crowd is deep, and there are no Banburys in sight. For now, I'm safe.
"Here," Natalie passes me a long-stemmed flute of champagne. "You need bubbly celebration alcohol. Knock it back, and I'll get you another one. We need to get this party started."
I do as she instructs, the bubbles fizzing inside me and the sharpness making me wince. The second one goes down more easily.
Just as I'm about to reach for a third, arms encircle me from behind. "Excuse me, Natalie, but Connie needs to come with us."
Holden's voice slides over my skin like warm milk, but tears burn in my throat. He said “us.” Are they all behind me, waiting like a gorgeous brick wall of man? Solid and strong. An anchor for my wavering soul.
"I'll agree so long as you return her to me in one piece," Natalie says, her eyebrows raising with a mixture of concern and amusement. I have a feeling that she was hoping for some kind of reconciliation to happen tonight, but she's going to be disappointed. Nothing has changed, at least from my perspective.
Holden turns me in his arms, his hands resting on my upper arms as his eyes take me in. Behind him, his brothers loom; handsome and intense, they take my breath away.
He dips his head close to my ear, and I inhale his scent of lemony soap and something that reminds me of the forest in spring. "You have some explaining to do, baby."
It's the “baby” that sends a shiver up my spine and over my scalp.
"Nice to see you too," I say, knowing that my sass is the only thing I have to hide behind right now.
"Don't make me carry you out of this place," he says. His expression is dark, but his mouth quirks up on one side for a fraction of a second, which tells me this is part of an act.
"Always the fireman," I say. Turning my attention to the rest, I smile at Karter, Kane, and Harris. They still have their tan skin from vacation, but it's faded.
"Don't let her go," Kane says. "She ran the last time without saying goodbye."
Karter holds out his hand. "Come on."
I slide my hand into his, the feeling of his skin on mine a reminder of how it felt to rest in his arms on our last night together.
We walk hand in hand further down the beach, flanked by the other Banbury brothers. When we reach a circle of logs, Karter indicates for me to sit.
"I'm sorry," I blurt as my ass hits the rough wood. They sit in a circle around me, resting their arms on their knees. Behind me, the waves skim the shore, a soothing backdrop to what feels like a tense moment.
"You left without saying goodbye," Karter says. "Why?"
I lean forward, staring at the sand, feeling like a kid being reprimanded by their parent. "It was better that way," I say. "No pretending. No trying to find words to smooth over something difficult. We had fun together, and that last night, we said goodbye in a way."
"Sex isn't goodbye," Kane says.
"We woke up and didn't know what had happened to you. We had to go to reception to find that you had checked out," Harris says.
"I wanted it to end on a high, not a depressing conversation about how it couldn't work in the real world."
Holden makes a huffing sound. "Is that what you think we were going to say or what you would have said?"
I momentarily lose my train of thought, but before I can reply, Kane shakes his head. "You know that it can work. Your best friend and our cousins have proved it by getting married. We were all there to witness their overflowing joy."
"What she means is that she doesn't think that we're boyfriend material," Harris says. "Just good for vacation sex."
"That isn't what I mean."
"So you do think we'd make great boyfriends." Harris grins, happy at the fact he's managed to get me to admit something I'm clearly trying to avoid.
"Of course we'd make great boyfriends," Holden says indignantly.
"Maybe I wouldn't make a great girlfriend," I say. "I'm grumpy in the mornings, and my job gets me down."